


A Cold Hunger

by Cromm768



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: Action, Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon, Canon-Typical Violence, Drama, F/M, Gen, Lightsaber Battles (Star Wars), Master & Padawan Relationship(s), Minor Character Death, POV Multiple, POV Original Character, Revenge, Soul-Searching, The Force
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 17:27:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29174880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cromm768/pseuds/Cromm768
Summary: The Dark Council grows ever so restless as proxy wars are being fought across the galaxy, and Darth Khaezyth, a Sith whose ambitions are beyond that of pure power, hungers for something more. The time to make a move is now and together with Darth Baras's apprentices, he plans to save their fractured Empire.
Relationships: Original Sith Character(s)/Jaesa Willsaam
Comments: 4
Kudos: 7





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't played swtor in a long time but I wanted to write a story set in the Star Wars universe in this specific time period. A lot but not all of the characters will be original, and so will be the events. Tags to be added as I go.

“My Lord, with all due respect, he who tempts the Dark Council, tempts the fate of the galaxy,” Moff Akru said.

“As it very well should, and?” Darth Khaezyth asked.

“Well, uh—as you are well aware, The Treaty of Coruscant makes this a very... precarious plan.”

“Akru...” Darth Khaezyth sauntered about the bridge of his dreadnought, glancing at the planet Telos below. “Why did you join the empire?”

Like a pet on leash, the moff kept his gaze to the floor and stayed an exact distance away from the dark lord as he followed. He was not old, but at one point in his career he was a battle-hardened grunt, his scars were a reflection of that. Khaezyth had to wonder how dreadful the moff’s previous master had been to turn him into something so passive, so pathetic. It frightened him. “T—to serve, My Lord.”

“A reason to join, but what of a reason for staying?”

Moff Akru cleared his throat and regained his composure, now able to look Khaezyth in his eyes. “Enacting the will of the emperor, making the galaxy ours, My Lord.”

“And thus you ascended, becoming a Moff. Your track record proves your loyalty, in fact, for the short time I’ve been assigned to this region, I never once questioned it—”

“Ah, ha! Right on schedule,” Agent Cyprus said, typing away at her datapad. “Darth Baras’s apprentice has arrived. Shall we go greet him?”

Khaezyth smirked. “Glady.” Her casualness was refreshing. Too long had Khaezyth been at the mercy of military protocols. A sith with any sort of self-respect cared little about technicalities, and not to mention it took guts talking to him like that in his domain. In less than a week, she’d earned more respect from him than Moff Akru did in months.

Imperial Intelligence was not to be underestimated.

Khaezyth followed Cyprus into the turbolift with the moff in tow. _Finally, Baras was making his move._ On paper, Baras’s treaty saved the Republic, but in reality, it was made to save the Empire. He was smart enough to realize ransacking world after world was only going to lead to our demise. With Darth Malgus’s strike on Coruscant, a gamble no other member on the Dark Council would’ve tried, the galaxy was for a time, in his grasp. Perhaps it was the will of the Emperor, but that kind of ambition was something to be admired. And why Baras still wasn’t on the Dark Council made him furious. Power with no ambition was corruption at its core.

“Akru,” Khaezyth said.

“Yes, My Lord?”

“The Empire was not made for stagnation.”

“Of course, My Lord.”

“Do you know why—why we must continue our conquest?”

Agent Cyprus gazed up from her work, meeting Khaezyth’s eyes.

“If I may, may I speak freely, My lord?” he said.

“By all means, and drop the title while we’re in private.”

“Of course,” Moff Akru took a deep breath then said, “Ultimately, it’s to defeat the Republic and conquer the galaxy, however, this Cold War has shown that we, the Sith I mean, are not fighting together as one. Our military is broken. Because of the Dark Council, we are essentially many different factions all under one umbrella.”

“An umbrella that might not actually exist,” Agent Cyprus added.

“Either way,” Khaezyth said, “Without a direct enemy, Sith will inevitably turn on eachother. I don’t doubt some amongst the Dark Council have already begun sizing up their little armies.”

“But the war, even the Republic knows how much of a farce the treaty is. The skirmishes on Alderaan, Balmorra, and Corellia alone speak volumes!”

“Don’t underestimate how hungry Sith can be, Akru. Given a planet they’ll want the system next, after that, well, I somehow doubt even the entire galaxy could satiate their hunger.”

“Does that... include you as well?”

The turbolift doors opened to the hanger bay, and though it was a sign of weakness, Darth Khaezyth held his tongue and proceeded towards their new arrival. Everything was a weakness, such was the problem of being in power. Silence was no different from hesitation, and hesitation meant he lacked resolve.

The warrior descended from his Fury-class interceptor, a rather personal and expensive ship, one that Khaezyth would never dream of handing over to an apprentice. However, considering the warrior’s quick rise to fame it seemed oddly fitting. Xerus was still young, not even a year had passed since his days as an acolyte on Korriban, but his demeanor more so than his raw power had grown significantly since then. Perhaps he was another pawn in Baras’s game, showering him with gifts, or he was an extension of Baras himself. Regardless, Xerus was a rare asset and beside him was a woman of considerable strength as well.

“Xerus, since the academy, was it? I hope Baras has been treating you well,” Darth Khaezyth said. His thoughts were impossible to read, likely a result of Baras’s training. The other one however, her thoughts were clouded—no, more like a mist that settles above a swamp.

“Baras is benevolent, surprisingly,” Xerus said, “Unlike many masters, he does not use fear as a means of teaching.” Xerus was built, a near-perfect reimagination of ancient Sith Marauders where strength surpassed all other feats. And he wore the scars on his face well. They would serve as a reminder of his origins, his time as a mere worm on the sands of Korriban.

“So it seems.” Khaezyth gazed over at Xerus’s female companion once more.

“My Lord,” she said, bowing her head. “Jaesa Willsaam at your service. I’m greatly indebted to my master Xerus and I will carry out my duties as you command.”

“Ah, I see...” Khaezyth connected the dots. Her demeanor as well as her clouded mind finally started to make sense. “You are not from the academy.”

“Indeed, My Lord.” She kneeled before him. “I was a part of the Jedi Order, a Padawan, a truly ignorant Padawan. It was only recently when Master Xerus and Master Baras opened my eyes and... rescued me.”

“Rise, Jaesa,” Khaezyth said. She rose to her feet and met the Sith Lord’s eyes. “It takes a great strength to unlearn what you once thought were truths of the Force—of this galaxy. I commend you. Your potential with the Dark Side is endless, just as it is with your master.”

“Thank you, My lord,” Her voice was monotone but calm. Whatever the truths she sought, she was in good hands. Baras was collected, making meticulously calculated moves in the shadows. He would not approve of overzealous apprentices.

“Moff Akru, My Lord,” Akru said with an overly respective bow. “I’m certain you will find my men more than capable to the task. I have worked with Darth Baras many times in the past and—”

“Agent Cyprus, Imperial Intelligence, my Lord.” She handed him her datapad. “Two of the Moff’s squads are on stand-by and per Darth Baras’s orders, I have personally vetted each of them. Their skills will serve our missions well.”

“Marvelous, good work agent.”

“Indeed,” Khaezyth added. “Continuously, I find myself impressed by Intelligence, their agents are bar none our most effective assets. The military, and even we could learn a thing or two from them.” Seeing Akru shrink was satisfying, but hazing a stuck-up Moff was beyond the Darth. Merely, he hoped to ignite the flame in him once more. Because when the time came, he needed the strongest of allies within the high ranks of the Empire.

“Truly. As the name implies, they are the brains of our glorious Empire,” Xerus said.

The group made their way over to the nearby conference room, and as they entered, Jaesa turned to Khaezyth and asked, “My Lord, do you have an apprentice?”

“I do not, nor will I ever.” As random as her question was, Khaezyth couldn’t help but appreciate her directness. A former Jedi, a Padawan no less, had enough courage to small talk with a Darth like him. Though like Xerus, Khaezyth too had ascended to lordship at a rather young age, to only then attain the title of Darth at age 30, implying his appearance did not strike fear into her heart, even considering the vibroblade scar along the side of his face and neck. The Dark Side did a number on his complexion as well; it was as if life was fleeting from his body.

“I see, within the Order, Jedi Order I mean, it wasn’t unusual for masters to forgo having an apprentice, however, I believe the Sith treat the matter differently, much differently.”

“An astute observation,” Khaezyth glanced at Xerus who was conversing with the agent, seemingly uninterested in the matter as a whole. “Indeed, though it varies on the master, most Sith see apprentices as an extension of themselves.”

“How so, My Lord?”

“Simple: if an apprentice is weak, so too is their master. The opposite of course is true. As such, a master should be proud to be slain by their apprentice. Though... Sith, especially those with great power, do not take kindly to losing what they’ve taken so long to build.”

“I see... is that from experience, Darth Khaezyth?”

“Everything comes from experience.” Khaezyth chuckled, sensing a bit of tension rising from her master. “Xerus is lucky to have you as an apprentice.” And as Xerus turned towards the center holoterminal, Khaezyth leaned into her ear and whispered, “Do not act hastily. Your time will come sooner than you think.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed this I'd love to hear what you think.


	2. Chapter 2

“Opening transmission,” Agent Cyprus said. And just like that, the room fell silent. Moff Akru was restless, obviously, however Jaesa seemed calmer than Xerus. Up until now, it was difficult to get a read on him. The barriers within his mind were strong and the only thing Khaezyth could extract was the most basic emotions. But now he knew some of his weak points, one was most certainly Darth Baras and the other was Jaesa. He feared Baras, naturally, but why Jaesa?

Suddenly, Darth Baras appeared in hologram form before them. Years ago, his mask sent chills down Khaezyth spine as did his power in Darth Side. But now, the gap between their powers had lessened. Though Khaezyth would be a fool to challenge him; a would-be ally on the Dark Council was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Wasting it over a test of strength was beneath him.

“My Lord,” Agent Cyprus said, “We’re ready to begin Operation Firebreak at your command.” Her mind was as cold as her voice, and she stood tall saluting the Darth. Her life, like many others that served within the inner circles of Sith, was fragile. One had to be fully aware of how powerless they were and had to accept that humiliation to get to where she was now. Khaezyth marveled at the braveness of force-less people like her.

“Excellent, agent, your work and loyalty continues to surpass my expectations,” Darth Baras said. He turned and his gaze fell down to his apprentice. “Your role in this is essential, do not make a mockery of me in front Darth Khaezyth.”

“Yes, master,” Xerus said in a low voice.

“Still giving your apprentice a hard time, huh?” Khaezyth said, giving a bow of his head.

“He is still young and arrogant.”

“As all Sith in their youth usually are. I myself was voted the most arrogant of my class.”

Jaesa chuckled but stopped in an instant. Luckily, Baras paid her no mind. As pompous and grandiose as Baras was, he still invoked a bit of uneasiness within Khaezyth. Baras’s goals were obvious but he was hiding something. Was this all something more than a simple power grab? It was something he had to keep in the back of his mind.

“Darth Baras,” Moff Akru interjected. “My Lord, I am greatly honored to be of service to you as well.”

“As you should be, Moff.” Darth Baras threw his arms out wide and continued, “Everyone before me will be a part of history. Legends in my tail to succession. From henceforth, I will not forget your actions, so long as your loyalty stays true.”

“But should the Dark Council find out, my Lord—”

“Then we take the fight to them instead. Their contrived notions of power are insignificant to the will of the Emperor. Their passiveness and attempts to one-up each other is an insult to everything his Empire stands for.”

“Of course, My Lord, his highness is truly wise, but if I may, why then was the Treaty of Coruscant created when we were this close to victory?”

Baras groaned, though Khaezyth had to admit he was curious about this as well.

“It seemed,” Baras continued, “that his excellency spent too long in the shadows. Sith are not known for their patience.”

“He foresaw internal strive,” Khaezyth said.

“Precisely,” Agent Cyprus added. “Intelligence reports from the war showed Sith, especially those among the Dark Council, prioritizing their own power over the Empire as a whole. As we are now, the Emperor is playing a game of chess except his pieces have a mind of their own.”

“And can turn on each other at a moment's notice,” Baras said. “As such, we will need to obtain resources of our own and take my master’s seat for myself. That way I will be one step closer to becoming the true Voice of the Emperor.”

Khaezyth heard rumors about the voice. Through a person—someone of considerable strength in the Dark Side—the Emperor could command everything as if he was there. But it had to be said, why was he hiding in the first place? Why use a proxy? It was a mystery likely none of the Dark Council members knew the answers to.

“Agent, I trust you will inform them of the mission,” Baras said.

“Yes, My Lord,” she said, already typing away at her datapad.

“Still busy, master?” Xerus asked.

Baras sighed. “Every day brings a new kind of nonsense to deal with.” Baras’s concession was a surprise to everyone, Khaezyth sensed. “Most of my time is spent convincing imbeciles in the military to join my cause. Politics is a slow death for someone as powerful as me.” Baras cut the transmission, and Khaezyth was left wondering if the Sith Empire could legitimately thrive without the Republic, let alone survive.

A space station appeared on the holoterminal as the agent turned to face the group. “As you all know, Ord Mantell is of the Republic, however, a pertinent group of separatists back by Imperial Intelligence have begun an uprising on the planet. In approximately 16 hours, a Republic freighter carrying experimental combat droids will be delivered to this station located in the Ord Mantell system. At the same time, another freighter is scheduled to drop off a garrison of troops, our troops. We are to get in, secure the droids, and knock out the station. Any questions?”

“This separatist group,” Jaesa said, “are they this important?”

“On the surface, no. They are ill-equipped to handle a meaningful response from the Republic, however, their insignificance is to our benefit.”

“But we’re sending Sith, three of them in fact, why?”

“It does seem like a declaration of war,” Xerus added.

“These are not normal combat droids, they are ones that require Jedi bodyguards. And the Republic secretly wants to test them on the separatist group. To prevent word of a Sith attack, our ship will be outfitted with an advanced communications disruptor that I will be manning.”

“You really think the Republic will believe a bunch of separatists could do this?” She asked.

Khaezyth watched as the agent found herself being driven into a corner. While Cyprus was composed at all times, it seemed Jaesa was too much for her to handle. He got between them and said, “The point is not for them to believe, the point is to agitate them, make them retaliate and—”

“Catch them in the act,” Cyprus said with a smirk before quickly dropping it. “Apologies, my Lord.”

“For what?” Khaezyth said.

“I insulted you by speaking out of turn. It will not happen again.”

“Keep your apologies, agent, I do not have time nor the will to care for such a minor infraction.” He turned to face Jaesa. To say she looked skeptical was an understatement. “Doubting your master’s master will not benefit you in the slightest, as he is not the forgiving type. Learn to control that side of you.”

“Yes, Master Khaezyth—ah—I mean Darth Khaezyth, My Lord.”

“She’s just eager,” Xerus said. “Try not to blame her.”

“I see...” He gazed at her once more. She had fine features, a reflection of her youth. And up this close, he could feel her resolve. Those who’ve turned often have a strong will. But looking into her eyes, he could tell that something was off. It was doubt, not for the mission, but something else, something personal. Thinking about it now, Baras allowing Xerus to have an apprentice was rather strange. He was very selective in choosing the right acolyte, so why would he be so carefree when it came to Xerus? Was he trying to win him over, or did Xerus convince him to take her on? If the latter was true, what was Xerus planning? “I suppose the more we know, the better,” Khaezyth continued.

“Khaezyth,” Cyprus said. “Time is of the essence.”

“Indeed. Akru!”

“Yes, My Lord.”

“Ready your men, and let them know the glory of fighting beside the Sith.” 

  
  


...

The two hand-picked squads filled into the Republic freighter Agent Cyprus had stolen. Everyone minus the moff was going, these missions needed to be handed with the utmost care. Khaezyth pulled him off to the side as the others were busy loading explosive canisters into the ship. “While I’m gone, keep watch on the movements by other Sith in this sector. Though Telos is still nowhere near conquerable, my mission on this planet is not finished.”

“Understood,” And just as Moff Akru was about to walk away he stopped for a moment and said, “Darth Khaezyth, it's been a great pleasure serving under you, truly,” before then making his way towards the turbolift.

Generally, peering into the minds of others was easy for the Darth. Though he couldn’t read minds per se, he could feel emotions, get a sense for how one was feeling in the moment. This, of course, was a power that could backfire with force adepts and those trained to resist such attacks. Jaesa and Cyprus were difficult to read for those reasons. Surprisingly, Xerus could be read like a book, and the entire time Baras was talking, he could sense an uneasiness within Xerus. As he approached the freighter, Xerus was right there waiting for him by the boarding ramp.

“How long have you known my master?” Xerus asked.

“Shorter than you’d think, but I know the kind of man he is.”

“And what do you think of him, genuinely?”

“He’s capable, cunning, worthy of the title and power he seeks, what more can I say? You’re his apprentice, are you not?”

“I am.”

“But you doubt him.”

“I doubt his methods. His motives are just, but I can’t see this working out any longer. Since Darth Malgus left with his forces into the Unknown Region, my master has been operating in the shadows. He’s been away from the frontlines too long to know what it's like.”

“A Sith wages a constant war, Xerus.”

“But for him, the entire galaxy is his battlefield, just as it is for the Emperor.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will be from Jaesa's POV


	3. Chapter 3

Telos looked nothing like it did in Jaesa’s holotapes. It was much greener and teeming with life, and though the Republic was ousted from the system years ago, Citadel Station was still standing strong. Most of that could be attributed to The Exchange and Czerka’s willingness to work with the Empire versus the Ithorians, but at least the restoration efforts didn’t go to waste under Darth Khaezyth’s rule. Throughout the Empire, Sith ruled with an iron fist and she often feared that worlds would turn into one Taris after another. The Jedi had convinced her of this and in turn, she allowed them to exploit her powers for their needs. It was for anything to protect the Republic... or so she thought.

“Jaesa,” Xerus said. “Are you going to be okay fighting against Jedi?”

She snapped out of it, realizing she’d been staring at Telos from aboard their freighter for a few minutes now. “For what I seek, for what we seek, it’s not like I have much of a choice. I don’t only serve you because you saved me, Master. I do so because I believe in your words as well. The future is bright within your eyes. I only wish we could act by our own means.”

“Thanks, Jaesa. But do understand my position. The gap between me and Baras is large. For now, I must do what he says. It’s for your sake too.”

“I understand, thanks, Master... for everything.”

He gave her a nod before making his way towards the main cabin.

For the first time in her life, someone extended a hand to her. Allowed her a chance to become something for herself. As a Jedi, she was her own worst enemy. Her master feared her potential. They feared her learning the truth. When Xerus, a Sith of all people, opened her eyes and gave her a second chance, she sought vengeance upon the Jedi. It was their fault. Their teachings held her hostage, made her scared of The Force rather than accepting of it.

She didn’t approve of the Empire over the Republic, but she couldn’t accept a galactic government run by Jedi. At least Sith were what they were and didn’t try to hide it. And Master Xerus’s vision of a brighter Empire, one where all could thrive, one where power corrupted none, was something her powers could be used towards.

Finally, she could be herself.

But when was Master Xerus going to act? Darth Baras was a problem, a large one at that, but surely Master Xerus had something planned, right?

The freighter’s thruster kicked on and she clenched her fists. This was her first test upon the dark path. It was one thing facing off against Republic troops, but it was an entirely different thing with Jedi. Could she really blame Jedi for being so naive? The Padawans no, but the knights and masters yes.

As she made her way towards the cockpit, Agent Cyprus began talking over the intercom. “Assuming they haven’t caught wind of our plans, we’ll be able to dock, steal the droids and plant the bombs in one in one fell swoop. They will not get a chance to send out a distress signal and not a single ship will be able to leave. Your commanders are Darth Khaezyth, Lord Xerus, and his apprentice Jaesa. I will be disrupting communications from here. As soon as the droids are on board and the bombs are planted I will signal everyone for departure. And I will not wait for you.”

Stone cold, but expected, Jaesa thought. Back at the conference room, all she could sense in the agent’s mind was neutrality. No emotions, no evil, no good. She passed as an android, an impressive feat for Imperial Intelligence. But if there was one thing she was sure about, it was that the agent was determined to see this through. It wasn’t for pride or ambition exactly, it was something else driving her, something deep within her heart. It would take time to learn what it was exactly with her power, but she wondered why she cared in the first place. The agent, after all, was just another product of the Emperor’s regime.

And just as she made it to the cockpit, the agent jumped into hyperspace. But there surprisingly leaning back in the copilot’s seat was Darth Khaezyth in all his glory. The Darth was like any Sith on the surface, fierce and made from the ashes of those he’d slain. Though younger by comparison, his power was almost if not equal to Darth Baras. But what confused her was the light within. At the very least it explained why she felt so comfortable being in his presence.

“Back then,” she said, “My Lord, you didn’t exactly explain why you don’t have an apprentice, and refuse to ever have one.”

He sighed, running his hand through his dark hair. None of this bore any reaction from Agent Cyprus. “I would not make a good teacher. Much of my time is spent saving our Empire, and my legacy is of my own,” he said. “Truly they would be a pitiful soul, indeed, having a master like me.”

“I see... My Lord—”

“Enough, I have a name. Use it.”

“As you wish, Khaezyth.”

“Too often do Sith seek validation from within the ranks. My Lord this, My Lord that. You know what this does, Jaesa? It weakens us.”

“How so, I thought it was out of respect?”

“It’s out of fear, pure fear. A general will twice before talking back to a Sith for fear of their life. A lot of them will lick our boots and do whatever it takes to please us just to get another badge on their chest. It was never about respect. The Emperor sought to shroud the galaxy in darkness—to rule with fear. But even Baras could see that man cannot be ruled by fear alone. Because somehow, no matter how powerful we are, there will always be someone willing to stand in our way. And that... that is stronger than the lightning in the palm of my hand.”

It was no wonder why Jaesa was so confused. He sought the very thing he contradicted. The weak were not fodder in his eyes. He would not so brazenly fire upon a planet as Darth Malak did many centuries ago. He was Sith, there was no doubt about it, but he could be the one person to ignite an uprising in the Empire.

Together, they would be unstoppable.

The rest of the ride was quiet. Jaesa found refuge in a nook in the cargo hold and spent the hours centering herself. The soldiers were spread all over the floor resting as well, but for a while she could sense their uneasiness. In the Republic, a similar thing happened whenever she or another Jedi joined the frontlines. Because wherever Jedi went, Sith usually followed suit. But feeling the minds of these Sith troopers now, it made perfect sense why they’d fear Jedi in the same way. The mind worked the same way no matter the uniform, and The Force was terrifying no matter who wielded it.

“Jaesa,” Master Xerus said.

“Yes, Master?” She opened her eyes. This hot-shot servant of Darth Baras was undoubtedly her savior. Baras did everything he could to track her down, but it was Xerus who spared her life and helped reveal the true nature of her old master. Xerus had a good heart, but his ambitions were next to nothing compared to the will of Darth Baras. In the end, she was a servant of a servant, and it wasn’t like he was a good teacher in the first place.

“Don’t hesitate. These Jedi are likely skilled operatives, not diplomatic counselors.”

“I understand,” she said then smirked. “You should worry about yourself, Master. Darth Baras is using you and it's plain to see.”

“I trust your judgment, Jaesa, I was well-aware of Baras’s intentions when he sought me out, but I am powerless to do anything about it. The Dark Side, I must find a way to grow stronger.”

“Do you really think you can do it? Is defeating the Dark Council really possible?”

Xerus crossed his arms and gazed at the soldiers below. “I doubt the path I walk too, you know, but it is my destiny to see it through till the end.”

“Then I’ll be there fighting by your side, Master. I promise you that.”

The freighter rocked like a ship at sea as the voice of the agent came over the intercom once more. “We have entered the Ord Mantell system and as expected, they still think we're carrying Republic troops. We’ll be docking in ten minutes. All hands, prepare for battle. The second we land you are to engage the enemy and begin the operation. Take no prisoners, spare none...” There it was, Jaesa thought, a bit of hesitation, a bit of emotion in her voice. “And... and I better see all of you back on this ship before I leave.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Graphic warning applies to this chapter

“You two, on me,” Jaesa said, walking towards the back of the cargo hold.

“Yes, My Lord,” The two soldiers said and saluted in unison. Them referring to her as that was odd. She was no longer a part of the Jedi Order, that much was true, but she was by no means a Sith. Perhaps she was a Gray Jedi, walking the tight-rope between the two factions, or perhaps she was just a Force-user, alone and broken in a galaxy on the brink of destruction.

The Force, why could she use the Force? If her destiny never lied with the Jedi, then what was her purpose?

“Don’t worry, My Lord,” one of the soldiers said. “When you’re fighting the Jedi we’ll be right with you.”

“Jedi, huh, I’ve always wanted to fight a Jedi,” the other one said.

“Best not. Any duel I fight is my fight—it will always be my fight. For now, the Jedi must pay for their ignorance,” Jaesa said.

“Yes, My Lord!”

“Roger that, then we’ll make sure none of their grunts lay a hand on you.”

As most Sith troopers were, these two were indistinguishable from each other. The Empire had completely standardized the designs of their military. Anyone not wearing an officer's uniform were nameless dark-armored drones of his majesty. The Republic was often comprised of ragtag militias and whatever bits of government security a system had, this was especially true the farther away you went from the core worlds. There was no uniformity.

“Your rank and names?” Jaesa asked.

“Private, Jokel Mourten, My Lord.”

“Sergeant, Darik Hartney.”

“You two were hand-picked for this mission, among others,” she said, glancing over as her master and Darth Khaezyth were briefing their soldiers as well. “How? What made you stand out?”

“I can’t imagine Moff Akru writing me a nice letter of recommendation, so I guess my career speaks for itself,” Sergeant Hartney said.

“I see, and you?”

“Speaking honestly, My Lord, I’m not sure,” Private Mourten said. “I only arrived at the Telos garrison a few weeks ago, and It’s my first time being stationed in the field.”

“Telos aint the field, kid. Balmorra is.”

“You would know, Sergeant?” Jaesa asked.

“Of course I would... My Lord.” Even through his helmet, she could feel him averting his gaze. Often, reading the minds of grunts was like reading the news on the holoterminals. They weren’t trained to resist such assaults. Private Mourten was an obvious example as his fears were as loud as his heartbeats. However, the sergeant was different. His thoughts were guarded, but unlike the agent, she could at least tell this was not by choice. The question was why?

“Deploying landing gear,” Agent Cyprus said over the intercom.

Jaesa grabbed her double-bladed lightsaber off her belt and turned to face the door. She couldn’t worry about the sergeant now. Getting sentimental would only make her hesitate in battle.

Whatever his reasoning was, just as it was for her master and Darth Khaezyth, fate had a strange way of intertwining it with her life. Was it fate, or was it really the Force?

The drop door opened and not a second passed before her master and Khaezyth leaped forward with their lightsabers drawn and ignited. They sliced through the dockhands with ease, and their men opened fire on the Republic guards in the hangar, gunning them down in an instant.

Across the hangar, the experimental droids were already in the midst of being off-loaded from their ship, and standing there with their lightsabers drawn were three Jedi. One of which shot an intense attack of pure malice through the Force at her. Master Xerus seemed to have caught his gaze and sent the Jedi flying into the air with a storm-like burst of wind. And dashing to his right, Khaezyth with two sabers drawn, red and blue respectively, clashed with the Jedi in close-quarters-combat. Time had to have stopped as a flurry of sparks lit up the hangar like streaks of lightning. Parrying the blades of the two opponents at the same time, even Master Xerus was in awe of it. To say Khaezyth was a skilled duelist was an understatement.

All of this before Jaesa could even ignite her own saber. Truly, this was a battle, no, a test from fate itself.

With her two companions, Jaesa created a defensive ring around the loading ramp. It was her job to defend the few who were off-loading the explosives. The agent made sure of this through the communicator in Jaesa’s ear. But their attack was so quick, she wasn’t sure that the station would even sound their alarm by the time they left.

“Reinforcements, incoming through the main door,” Agent Cyprus said.

A barrage of rifle blaster fire came Jaesa’s way, but one-by-one, she deflected their shots. Deflecting was the simplest form of a defense with a saber, and one she spent years practicing. Never did she think she would have to use it against the Republic though. But with their sights set on her, Mourten and Hartney took cover behind a set of crates and used the opportunity to pick them off from a distance.

It was all too easy.

But something was wrong. There was a twinge in the back of her mind: a presence lurked near. She tightened her grip on her saber. Looking back at her master and Khaezyth, they were still putting the heat on the two Jedi, but the other one—where the hell was he?

She closed her eyes and slowed her breathing.

The Force was a current, often it lacked course and direction but it followed each person like a scent. Even people like Mourten and Hartney carried some as well, though it was practically benign. Because of this, sensing a fellow Force-user was easy. However, there were those in the Order who could mask their presence and move undetected. The Jedi Shadows, those powerful enough to influence the Force around them to create a cloak of absolute invisibility.

She focused on the waves, tuning out the blaster fire and clashing of lightsabers. In her mind, she stood in an empty white plane while holding her doubled-sided blade. She got into a striking stance and felt the waves circulate around her body. It was then, in the distance, where she believed Khaezyth was, she felt an unusual aura. His waves were calm even in the midst of battle.

There, it was there, the presence was in front of her, behind the sergeant!

She opened her eyes and threw everything she had into a Force Push, but it was too late as The Shadow’s blue saber had already pierced through his chest. He then leaped into the air, dodging her attack, before landing behind Private Mourten and leaving a deep slash across his back.

They collapsed dead on the floor. She got distracted. It was only for a moment but it was enough for an assassin to strike. She felt an overwhelming sense of guilt, one that could prove her end in the coming moments.

“Traitor,” the Jedi muttered from under his hood.

She said nothing, instead, she charged at him with all her rage. But as their blades met, the ends mere inches away from their respective faces, she whispered, “Liars.”

Using her back hand as leverage, she torqued her shoulders forward and pushed his blade back away from hers. She then gave a half-swing, a faint to his left side with her back blade, and just as he reached out to block, she reversed her momentum and sliced off his hands with her front-facing blade.

He fell to his knees, writhing in absolute agony.

There were no more words from Jaesa. What more could be said? She grabbed his lightsaber and ignited it. Such a beautifully dark blue color and its hilt a remarkable piece of its craft. Likely, he forged this on Tython, journeying the same path she and hundreds of other Jedi walked before. Their teachings, their ceremonies, all of it, all to what end?

With his arms deeply sunk into his chest, the Jedi sat on his knees and attempted to control his breathing. To center one’s self before death was a Jedi’s way of acceptance.

“The Order will find you. What you did, cannot be forgiven,” he said.

She held the end of his lightsaber as close to his neck as possible and glared at him. “Good, because I never asked.” She sliced off his head, putting Sergeant Hartney and Private Mourten to rest in her mind, but her heart—all she could feel in her heart was emptiness, along with the everso cold waves of the Force.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Graphic warning applies to this chapter

Call it barbaric but to Darth Khaezyth there was nothing like a good fight, and with two Jedi, it made wielding two sabers all the more thrilling.

Xerus had pleaded his case to help but this was no place for honor, not with Darth Baras breathing down their necks. Thus, ignoring the one who vanished into thin air using Force Cloak, Khaezyth had the Jedi occupied and allowed Xerus a free path to the droids. To his right, he could sense a bit of the invisible Jedi’s aura passing by. It seemed his attunement to the Force around him managed to scare the Jedi off. In battle, his senses were heightened; no one would ever get the jump on him.

Khaezyth’s onslaught of saber strikes caught the Jedi’s off guard. They were on their heels almost immediately, left to catch his blades on the defensive just to survive.

Spinning, side-stepping, and pirouetting, Khaezyth’s every move was fluid. Every attack flowed into the next, carrying every bit of momentum along the way. Two lightsabers in each hand made his technique possible, it minimized wasted energy and maximized his output of strikes. To counter it required aggression. They needed to close the gap and make him hesitate, but Khaezyth was well aware of this and wouldn’t let up for even a second.

In a way, this was a test for the Jedi, a test of their resilience as well as their commitment to the Light Side. Passiveness was incompatible with the Force, the only thing Khaezyth’s master ever taught him.

With a dash forward, Khaezyth caught the Zabrak Jedi off-balance and with the tip of his blue saber, he stabbed through the middle of his chest.

“Horald!” The human Jedi screamed. He attempted an overhead swing with his blue lightsaber but was stopped by the brunt of Khaezyth’s other saber. Unable to land a hit, he skittered back and with two hands gripping his hilt, he glared at Khaezyth and as he steadied his breath, he said, “The Force guides me, Sith. You will not win.”

“Win?” Khaezyth retracted his saber and the Zabrak dropped to the ground. “In your eyes, is victory killing me?”

“Victory is stopping you—stopping the Sith. Victory—victory is returning peace to the galaxy once more.”

“Peace... I see. The Jedi Code, this peace in your eyes, your master's eyes as well, death is a necessity?”

“It’s a sacrifice.”

“A sacrifice of one’s beliefs.”

“We will not bend to the Sith. We are the protectors of the light, guardians of the good in the galaxy, of honesty, of compassion. The Force gave us this purpose.”

“Of course, however...” Khaezyth switched off his blue saber while keeping his red one aimed at the Jedi. “Why then do I sense such hatred within you, such malice. I can feel the Force surrounding you; it’s giving you strength and you don’t even realize it.”

“Enough.” The Jedi took a step back, his eyes glancing back and forth from his dead Jedi friend to Khaezyth.

“You seek revenge. Embrace it, Jedi, embrace your feelings, for it will be all you have left. That, or die an empty husk.”

“I said enough!” And with fire in his eyes, he leaped forward and threw everything he had into a wild swing.

Khaezyth smirked. He threw his arm across his chest to meet the Jedi’s blade. But the Jedi used his free hand to Force Pull his friend’s saber off the ground. Khaezyth was wide open and dead to rights, however, his command of the Force was greater and with his left hand, he caught the blade in mid-air, ignited it, and slashed across the Jedi’s chest.

It was as Khaezyth expected: the Force bent to his will.

The Jedi collapsed to his side and with his dying breath, he said, “Horald... I—I’m... sorry.”

Khaezyth kneeled beside him. “Rest Jedi, know you were true to yourself in the end.” He switched on his saber, ending his life.

Khaezyth seldom sympathized with an enemy. After all, there would be no greater insult to his honor than being on the receiving end. However, Jedi were different. He had no choice but to pity them.

The Force, they would never truly understand it with their code and teachings. How could one achieve a great power by holding themselves back? How could one devote so much of their life to the Light Side with so little to gain. The Dark Side, though not perfect, gave Khaezyth the purest essence of power, the strength his late master had prophesied. He had everything to gain, but the Dark Council stood in his way just as well as the Jedi.

“Sacrifice, huh?” He gazed at the Jedi’s lifeless bodies. “If only the Force had a heart.”


End file.
